Dear Dean
by Romione4Life
Summary: Seamus writes a short series of letters to his friend Dean during his seventh year at Hogwarts while the latter is on the run from the Death Eaters.


**Author's Note: This was written for round six of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. My task was to choose a character and write a letter from that character to a friend. It turned out to be a series of letters, so hopefully that still fits the task.**

**Disclaimer: I must not tell lies! I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own any part of Harry Potter.**

* * *

Dear Dean,

You didn't get on the Hogwarts Express this morning. I knew you wouldn't be here. These are dangerous times for just about everybody, and even more so for Muggleborns. I don't think you're even allowed to come to Hogwarts this year. So I guess I shouldn't expect to see you anytime soon, huh? Well, wherever you are, I hope you're all right. I really wish you were here with me, but it's more important that you're safe.

Truth be told, it's probably for the best that you can't come back to school. No one has any idea what to expect this year at all. I mean, Snape as Headmaster? That can't mean anything good. In fact, I think the only ones on the train who look comfortable at all are some of the Slytherins. Of course, they don't have anything to worry about. At least I know I have the D.A. I'm sure we'll all look out for each other.

Well, Neville's coming over to talk to me, so I guess I'll wrap up my letter. Be careful, Dean.

Your friend,

Seamus

* * *

Dear Dean,

Hey, it's me again. I'm not sure why I keep writing to you. It's not like it would be safe to send you letters even if I knew where to send them. But everyone else here has plenty of problems to deal with already, so this is my only outlet right now. I hope you don't mind.

Things here are, amazingly, worse than I expected. Snape is a truly terrible Headmaster. He has basically turned Hogwarts into a school for the Dark Arts. We hardly ever see him, though, so it wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the Carrows, the new professors here. Calling them 'complete rubbish' would be a huge understatement, to say the least. They are vile, cruel, sadistic monsters. Actually, even that description is probably too mild. People say they're Death Eaters, which wouldn't surprise me one bit.

Alecto Carrow teaches Muggle Studies now. The lies she tells us are absolutely disgusting. But even more sickening is her brother, Amycus, who took over Defense Against the Dark Arts and turned it into exactly the opposite. He makes us practice Dark magic, including doing spells on younger students who have misbehaved. If we refuse, then we get punished. So either way, somebody gets hurt. And it's usually us older students. How can we look an innocent first year in the eyes and cast an Unforgivable Curse on them? But I don't want you to worry about us. We're making it through so far.

However, it's very lonely here, mostly at night, that is. Neville and I are the only ones left in the dormitory. Don't get me wrong, he's good company, but I miss you. Harry and Ron too. I still expect the three of you to come walking through the door every night before bed. I just can't accept the fact that you're gone and I may never see any of you ever again. I know I shouldn't think like that, but given the circumstances, it's hard not to.

Okay, I'd better go. Our so-called Defense Against the Dark Arts class starts soon, and I shudder to think what could happen if I'm even half a second late. The Carrows find enough reasons to punish me anyway; I don't need to give them another one.

Talk to you later.

Your friend,

Seamus

* * *

Dear Dean,

I think I've finally gotten used to the fact that you're gone. The silence at night isn't so bad anymore. Yet there's still some small part of me that hopes to see an owl flying through the window with a letter or a little note or _anything_ from you to tell me that you're okay. It's stupid, I know, but I worry about you all the time.

I'm sorry that I haven't written in a while. There really hasn't been much to report until now, so I haven't had anything to write. Not that you're ever going to see these letters, though, so I don't really need to apologize, but whatever.

The big news right now, of course, is that Luna Lovegood didn't return after the Christmas holidays. I suppose it's possible that she chose to stay home, or wasn't allowed to come back. Still, knowing how loyal she is, I think she'd want to stick with us. I have a bad feeling that something more sinister happened.

It was a huge shock to everyone, really. Luna was someone we could always count on to be there, and she usually cheered us up and kept us positive, and now that she's gone – well, it's been a huge blow to our spirits.

I honestly don't know what to do, Dean. I don't think there's anything I _can_ do. We're completely under the Death Eaters' control. Our only chance right now is that Harry's still out there, probably with Ron and Hermione, fighting for us. I just hope that it's enough.

Your friend,

Seamus

* * *

Dear Dean,

We've moved into the Room of Requirement now – the D.A., that is. Neville thought of it. It was quite a brilliant idea. He was the only one here for a bit, but the rest of us slowly started to gather here as well, and thanks to Neville's careful planning, we've been safe from the Carrows.

We have been trying to follow everything that's been going on through _Potterwatch_ – it's this radio program that talks about Harry and the resistance against You-Know-Who and whatnot. Maybe you've heard of it. I don't know if you have access to radio where you are.

I still don't know anything about where you are. And it still frustrates me, even after all these months. The more time that passes, the more I'm convinced that you're dead or sitting in a cell in Azkaban or something awful. They haven't read your name amongst the dead on _Potterwatch_ yet, so I guess that's a good sign. But the only way I'll be able to know for sure is if this war ends. If I can't find you at that point, then I'll have my answer.

Wishing for a speedy finish to the war,

Your friend,

Seamus


End file.
